


Black Glass Ocean

by SolvableIllusion



Category: Ori and the Blind Forest
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Orphans, Precognition, if you think there's a tag i should add definitely let me know, more tags to be added as needed?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolvableIllusion/pseuds/SolvableIllusion
Summary: “These recurring visions that swirl around me like the heavens…”“...I’ll make them fall to earth and shatter.”Ayla, orphan daughter of Ori, has lived in a box her entire life. Having witnessed the eternal fate of the spirit race from her birth, Ayla hungers to find answers to her questions—and more importantly, a way to break the vicious cycle of the war against Decay. But in her isolated Moki community settled deep within Luma Pools, knowledge about the deep-rooted conflict between spiritkind and Decay runs dry. Ayla, seeing no other way out, takes her trusted obsidian knife and sets out to pave her own path—guided by none other than the precognitive visions that dwell in her left eye.Information Processing. Pass Over Causality. Omega and Alpha. Circular Truth.Moon Reflected on Black Glass Ocean.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Black Glass Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! For the sake of jumping you right into it, while still maintaining the friendly, conversational vibe of these chapter notes, I’ll keep this brief, with just the stuff you should definitely know before.
> 
> This work, and particularly this opening chapter, is heavily inspired by Pink Floyd’s monumental album Dark Side of the Moon, which you will most likely instantly recognize by its album cover art. (This should be all the more apparent once you pull up the album and look at the first song’s title.) If you haven’t listened to it before, (or heck, even if you have,) I highly recommend you pull up the whole album on Youtube or Spotify and listen to it from the start as you read this chapter. No shuffle, please, and I think you’ll see why once you get past the first two songs. One last heads up: the first song has about thirty seconds of silence before a heartbeat crescendos into audible range. Nothing’s going wrong on your end, that’s just how the song is. 
> 
> OK, with that out of the way, let’s hop right into it!

Their heartbeat.

Ori can’t feel their heartbeat.

Slowly, their eyes peel open, casting away the fatigues of… 

The fatigues of… 

They don’t know.

Something slips away from them, a fleeting glimmer of brilliance lost into the depths of a pitch-black forest, forever shrouded by the labyrinthine twists and turns of the winding trails.

It’s already far, far beyond their reach. So they don’t even try.

Ori blinks.

Ori blinks again, and marvels at how wrong they were.

No, instead of the slippery, graceful movements of a forest dweller evading capture by a hair’s length, it’s more like an inkblot being wiped out of existence, drenched with correction fluid until all that remains is a vast, sprawling sea of white dribbling over the paper, threatening to wipe out legible scrawls and heinous calligraphic mistakes alike. 

Hm. That’s a bit scary, when they put it like that. Or at least, Ori thinks it should sound scary, because they can’t seem to find a hint of fear clouding their thought process. The brief thought suggesting that that’s a dangerous sign flits through their mind ever so quickly before exiting stage right. Ori doesn’t really want to entertain that thought, to be honest, so they leave it at that.

Ori blinks again, staring into the greedy expanse of brilliant, unadulterated light surrounding them in all directions. It doesn’t stare back. Even if it could, Ori has a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn’t be able to feel that either.

Where are they?

What are they doing here?

Something’s starting to irk Ori—or maybe it’s only the thought that they should be irked, they can’t tell—like, like… 

Like that, right?

Right?

Ori reflexively tries to scratch their head in confusion. Nothing happens. 

They consciously try to scratch their head. Rotate the shoulder muscles, bring the hand up and onto the head.

Nothing happens again.

Huh.

It happened again.

There it is, right? Ori thinks they should be irritated by something, but they can’t even work up the nerve to be irritated, let alone pin down what’s irritating them.

At this point, Ori wants to clasp their hands over their head and bore down on their temple with their fingers, but the more they try to force a flicker of frustration into their bleak, one-tone environment, the more they feel… empty. These thoughts that chug along like a locomotive, unaware that the conductor has vanished into thin air, are all they have left.

Why? …Why? Why? Why?

The echoes won’t stop ringing, ringing, ringing through their head, trapped in a cage with nowhere to go, nowhere to flee to, nowhere to escape from emptiness itself.

That’s wrong, wrong, wrong! Isn’t it obvious! It’s only logical, you know? Darkness is the absence of light! That’s the natural order, that’s how it’s always been, always is, and always will be! What is something cannot be nothing, and what is nothing cannot be something. Is there any flaw in that logic?

Why is this happening? What did they do back then, back then on the other side? Assuming there even was ‘another side’ to begin with? The concept known as ‘death’ was imminent, they can manage to remember that much. Everything past that is smeared out by the glare of this bizarre, uncanny limbo. 

Still, what’s the difference between this and being dead? No, what’s the good of technically, categorically, scientifically being qualified as alive if this is all that’s left, the surreal sense of emptiness gnawing away at your being, your concept, your integrity as a human? What’s the use? What good is all this blinding light if all Ori needs is the soothing embrace of black fur mingling with their brilliant white coat, or the shadow cast by elegant wings of shade, those boundless promises of freedom? 

Darkness… If only there was even a puddle of darkness, somewhere, anywhere in this unsettling blank canvas, Ori feels like they would be comforted. Despite being a creature of light, they despise being completely submerged in it, overwhelmed by its unwavering singularity. If they could still feel their mouth, surely they would hiss in discomfort, a hiss wrought with repulsion and rejection, primal instinct rebelling against its own existence—

—Ori can’t live without the darkness.

A wave of understanding rocks their frail consciousness like a boat caught in a malevolent storm, followed by a wave of sickness slamming into the senses they didn’t even know they still had. 

Their family. Naru, Gumo, Ku. 

The darkness is the light’s everything. And now, the light has given up everything to protect that darkness.

Ori fervently wishes they could throw back their head and laugh, a sonorous, broken laugh, wailing through the white void like a banshee. Is this it? Is that all that remains for them? 

They can feel themselves quake and quiver, walking on a cliff’s precipice with their eyes closed, humming a distantly familiar tune as they blissfully dismiss the dangers below. A rich, textured emotion bubbles up from deep within their core, threatening to burst out and overflow at any moment, swallowing them up as easily as the deep blue deluge of the Ginso. What is that emotion, they wonder. How would it feel to taste it on the tip of their lips, with all the freshness of glimmering morning dew, waves of bittersweet and sour attacking their tastebuds. How would it feel to describe it, words pouring out of their mouth like milk and honey, even in all their abundance failing to reach a satisfying description, forever within sight yet forever out of reach.

It’s maddening, maddening, oh so maddening… 

Drip.

Oh, they’ve really gone and done it now! What’s next, they start seeing hallucinations of them still at home with their family? At this point, who’s even to say what’s the difference between hallucination and reality anymore?

Drip.

Cut it out! We all know, we surely grasp, we clearly understand! That there can be no such anomaly in this perpetual prison of light, these invisible bars that cannot cage the body and thus settle for the psyche.

Drip.

…

Drip. 

And yet despite Ori’s protests, it refuses to stop. Somehow, it refuses to stop, a relentless locomotive chugging along without a driver, with no will of its own. And yet what does not exist cannot be broken. So it keeps following the rails leading it to its destination, ad infinitum.

Drip.

Only as they attempt to turn their vision skywards does Ori notice how much they’re shivering and shaking, completely wrecking their sense of balance. C’mon—calm down, calm down—deep breaths, deep breaths, c’mon Ori oh heavenly lights, can they even breathe, breathe 

Drip.

breathe in the air, breathe in the air

hahahahahahaha~

Drip.

  1. out. whole rest.



ba-dump. ba-dump. ba-dump.

  1. out. whole rest.



fermata.

Drip.

  1. out.



That’s the way.

A silent bell tolls.

A metronome softly ticks away.

Their frenetic rattling is slowly but surely stilling. They cast a hopeful gaze at the sky, only to find it still painted with a bleak, pasty white, with no impurities in sight. Ever hopeful, their vision cranes down, down, down, until their eyes meet the horizon line. 

Drip. 

A perfectly circular ripple tears through a sea of black below their feet. Their ankles are briefly assaulted with the visceral sensation of chills running across their skin as darkness splashes across their hooves. ‘How beautiful’, Ori thinks, and they can actually feel it this time. A sense of genuine wonder jolts through their body, leaving a crisp, pleasant aftertaste with no hint of foul subtleties. They don’t know how, but it’s as if all the weight on their shoulders was simply washed away. They’re free, free as a bird.

Drip.

Now that they’ve regained a semblance of ‘feeling’—if that’s really what this is—Ori becomes acutely aware of the source of the dripping. Their eyes. If it’s coming out of their eyes—are these tears, or something else? Can something as simple as a tear hold this much darkness, carry away so much of a burden?

Drip. 

Is that really what this?

Drip.

Ori looks at the horizon again.

They see the dividing line between beauty and bleak. 

They blink, and the line is still there. 

Which is which?

Drip.

Ripples break again on the horizon.

Ori makes their decision. 

As soon as they do, Ori feels the floor give out beneath them. They sink, sink, sink below the pitch-black water’s surface, and yet, their mind is calm, as if this was something they had expected for their whole life. They’re sinking, yet simultaneously weightless, liberated from the clutches of gravity, and somehow it just feels right. All around them, flares of white light burst into view as stars come to life, filling in the blanks, filling in all the nothingness. Ori looks closer, closer at the light, and finds themselves immersed in the brilliant arrays of color that dance at the tip of the light. Reds, greens, and blues dance so elegantly with the threads and wisps of darkness that remain by their sides, locked in an eternal choreography between perfectly matched partners. 

Perhaps what they’re doing is not sinking. No, perhaps it’s more like drifting, drifting through an endless ocean. The spirit formerly known as Ori likes the sound of that, somehow. Forever watching the ever-changing line between light and dark that flows so sublimely, always different but always the same… Such a thought puts their heart at peace. 

A laugh slips out of the spirit’s mouth. Harmonious and perfectly-pitched, it bears none of the broken imperfections of the echoes that once resonated throughout their skull. It’s a laugh filled with mirth. It’s a laugh filled with life, filled with death, and everything in between.

‘How beautiful.’

The spirit closes their eyes, and in their mind lies a great, sprawling sea. 

They stand on the beach, their hooves pressing on the fine grains of sand that rustle beneath them. The smell of sea salt in the air blows in on a brisk eastward wind. On the horizon, the evening sun glows a bright orange as it retires into the distance, casting flickers of red, orange, and purple light onto the waves below. 

And the waves come crashing in, one by one, breaking on the shore at the spirit’s feet. The spirit briefly senses that they could place some names on the waves, perhaps in their past life. The way they move makes the spirit feel at home, assuaged by the simple grace of familiarity. 

These waves eventually break on the shore too. But the spirit is not bothered; they merely smile to themselves, because the waves were a part of the sea, and still are a part of the sea. 

The spirit sits down on the sand, their tail idly swinging from side to side as they admire the view, fading sunlight still glistening off the water. This ocean view is a boundless promise. For that, they are ever thankful. 

The sun sets, and a wave of drowsiness falls over the spirit. They collapse on the beach, still warm from the sand’s last memories of the day. It’ll be cold soon, but the spirit couldn’t care less. This is where they want to be, right here and now. This is where they were meant to be.

“Wake up, Ori. It isn’t over for you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everybody! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  
> Originally, I was going to post a somewhat lengthy ramble as a new “chapter” on Wings for the Dove about my current state in writing, but I ultimately held back because putting out a “chapter” that basically summed up to “hey go read this entirely different fic instead guys haha” would’ve put a bad taste in my mouth. So, I’m going to include an abridged version in the comments, saving the rest of the post chapter-notes to actually talk about the chapter. It’s definitely going to be a shorter post-chapter notes section than usual, just because I would like to leave things as open-ended as possible and deal with legitimately confusing things as I see fit. With that in mind, don’t be afraid to ask away in the comments! Just know that I’ll give as vague of an answer as I feel like giving.
> 
> Addressing a nitpick that almost definitely irked at least one of you—the whole human, humanity bit. For the purposes of this fic, “human” essentially refers to any being that could reasonably be considered sapient and possessing at least a rudimentary moral compass, instead of to the particular species Homo sapiens. Since (spoiler alert) there are a sum total of zero Homo sapiens in this fic, it hopefully shouldn’t be confusing at all after you read this note.  
> (although if it still is confusing you should definitely let me know, and i’ll see if i can find a way to do better.)  
> By this definition, humans can include, but are not limited to: spirits, Moki, Naru’s species, the Gumon, Tokk’s species, Lupo’s species, the Gorlek, and the dark owls. 
> 
> Another minor thing I should probably address: the addressing of Ori as they/them instead of he/him like in WftD. Early on in WftD, I stated that the decision to address Ori by he/him was mostly a clarity issue, considered I felt I should address Sein as they/them, and interpreting whether I'm referring to one or both when using they/them can get ambiguous in certain situations. This isn't really an issue anymore considering the majority of the story focuses primarily on Ayla, who definitively goes by she/her, but changing Ori's pronouns back to a more ambiguous, canon-compliant stance still leaves this awkward gap where Ori switched pronouns for an unexplained reason. Personally, I'm choosing to bridge the gap by acknowledging Ori as nonbinary-masculine (which I think still makes sense given Ori's origin as a masculine name), but there's really no right way to do it. As long as it's in a respectful manner, it's whatever you want to make out of it.
> 
> I’m also curious to know if anyone would be interested in beta reading the next chapter once it’s drafted. No commitment necessary, of course. (i’m hardly committing much to writing this myself haha) I’ll just shoot you a Discord DM containing the draft’s Google Doc, and from there it’s up to you to decide if you want to comment on it or talk about it, or even read it at all.  
> so yeah shoot me a dm at JubJub#7899 if you’re interested haha thanks
> 
> That about covers everything I definitely know I wanted to cover, so as usual, constructive criticism is always appreciated, and I give you my best wishes until we meet again in the next set of notes!


End file.
